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After I finished helping Mei Ling enchant her artifacts, the world moved around me at a breakneck pace. I followed alongside Lily, sluggish. I could barely use my powers, and every few steps, Lily had to steady me to keep me from falling. But Mei Ling had given me a data file with information, and I’d taken note of everything I’d learned about Benjamin and the creation of spirits. The temporary loss of my speed power was a fair price for what I had gained.
Lily and I bought a fried noodle dish for lunch from a small restaurant downstairs. Slowly, people started sounding normal again, not like I was missing clips of their conversations because they were talking too fast. By the time we met up with Lance and Quin a few blocks from the hotel, the world had resumed its normal pace.
A couple streets from the hotel, I noticed a young woman sitting alone on the curb. There was a metal pot beside her, along with a cardboard box holding a stack of small red books with golden edges. She wore a bright blue t-shirt that had a picture of stick people holding hands, a stick-figure house behind them. It resembled the Community flag, though its slogan—in multiple languages like most the signs around here—said something about kindness and sharing—not safety, security, and efficiency.
Most of the shoppers simply sidestepped the woman and moved on, ignoring her offers of the little red books. As we came closer, the woman saw me watching and smiled. She spoke first in what I assumed might have been Japanese, since we were in OA territory, and when I gave her a look of confusion, she switched languages. “Would you like to donate to the missionary?”
From my knowledge of history, missionaries had to do with colonization, but this place was already densely populated. I pulled away from the others. “What do you do?” She had books, which, if nothing else, might have historical information I didn’t already have.
Her smile widened and she offered me one. I took it, flipping through the pages of tiny print. Really tiny print. “We’re teachers. Mostly we stick to the territories. We teach children and their families English and Mandarin, if they don’t already know it. We help build houses, and we run supplies to troubled areas. For those who are interested, we teach religion.” She pointed to the book she’d handed me.
“How much does it cost?” Religion involved deities and myths, ancient myths and their deities were somehow connected with the time stones, and if this book explained something about that, reading it might bring me one step closer to solving how the time stones worked.
She glanced at me in surprise. “The books are free, meant to help us spread God’s word...”
I fished out a handful of paper yen and dropped it into the metal pot alongside several other notes. “It talks about deities, right?”
“Err... one deity, but yes.” She gave me a puzzled look. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
I shook my head. “Community.”
She blinked, her eyes wide. “We don’t see many refugees from the Community.” She paused. “Do you need a place to stay? We have a sanctuary here.”
“I’m not a—” I stopped. She was right. Technically, I was a refugee. I couldn’t have stayed in the Community, even if I’d wanted to, though I’d never thought of myself as a refugee. “I’ll be fine. I’m staying with friends until I can return.” Family, too, but I wasn’t sure if that would confuse her even more.
She smiled gently and gestured to the handout. “If you ever need a place to stay, our business card is in the back of the book. I hope you find what you’re looking for. Thank you for the donation. God bless.”
“You’re welcome.” I jogged back to the rest of the group.
Refugee.
I couldn’t go back until I made the Community safe.
Lily side-eyed the book. “You didn’t have to do that.”
I pushed the thought of refugees aside and shook my head. “I figured that if it’s a book about a deity, and all the time stones are based on deities and mythology, then it might be helpful.”
“Not all the stones are based on deities,” Quin protested, but Lily elbowed him in the ribs.
“Don’t get him started,” she said quickly.
“Besides,” I continued, “I gave her the money I got yesterday.” I bit my lip. “She said they help teach people and build houses and stuff, so I figured the money could at least go to helping out.”
It could go to other people who had been forced to flee their homes for whatever reason.
Lily and Quin glanced at each other. Lily pressed a handful of cash into Quin’s hand and urged him to go. Sheepish, he dropped it into the pot. The woman waved to me as I pocketed the book. I still had half of Jim’s history textbook to finish reading before I started anything else, and the document about beast transformation, but maybe I could skim this new find in my spare time.
The restaurant Lance chose for our date was nestled in the upper floor of a shopping center. He held my arm in the crook of his arm as we strolled down a long, low-lit hall. Soft, classical music played around us. Lilting flutes complimented the strings of a harp. Familiar music, similar to the classical music the Community favored. We stopped at the tinted windows of a restaurant and the formal bow of the host in a tuxedo. He escorted us to a square table in the back of the room. A silky white tablecloth covered the table, and a single candle floated in a glass bowl. The tiny flame flickered, weaving back and forth like a fire beastie—
“For the miss.”
I blinked, startled from my thoughts as our host removed a chair from under the table and gestured for me to sit. Odd that he was treating us so... nicely. This elegant treatment was something for leaders, not for normal citizens. Still, this was Lance’s date, so I sat without protest. The host pulled out another chair for Lance. “Your waiter will be with you shortly.” He backed away from the table and started to reach for a draw cord next to a set of heavy drapes.
“Actually, sir?” Lance asked. The host paused. “We would prefer to have the view.”
“As you wish.” The host bowed again and walked away, leaving the draw cord untouched.
I frowned. The cord led to a set of curtains, one that he could have closed for privacy, but would have undoubtedly been more confined than I would have preferred. I smiled at Lance. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Firelight flickered across his solemn face, highlighting the rectangular features. “I want this to be a night you can enjoy. I even asked them to hold the salad.”
My smile widened. Maybe this night would work out after all.
Our waiter returned with a pitcher of ice water and a basket of rolls. Lance offered me one and then took one for himself. The butter was sweet—laced with honey. It tasted good, but odd. More like dessert. Lance, however, let out a happy sigh after tasting the strange substance.
“I take it you like the bread?” I asked, hoping to break the silence of the orchestra on the intercom. I enjoyed classical music, but the slow, graceful melodies added to the haunting candlelight. I kept expecting someone to appear from the shadows. A Special Forces agent, maybe, looming outside the window and waiting to strike... or a beastie tearing between the tables, leaving destruction in its wake. I fiddled with the flower charm. Maybe I needed to take a break from watching Jack’s movies. Or maybe the memory attacks were coming back. It had been over twenty-four hours since one had surfaced.
Lance nodded enthusiastically after finishing his roll. “Yeah. It’s good.” He gestured to my plate. “What do you think?”
“That you have a sweet tooth.”
“And possibly a cavity.” He made a face, trying to test some hard-to-reach tooth.
I smirked. Served him right, eating marshmallows for breakfast. But my smile faded. Cavities weren’t pleasant, and just because Lance ate his dessert out of order didn’t mean he deserved a cavity.
“Is it something Gwen can fix?” She could mend flesh and broken bones—I winced at the mental sound of bones cracking and rearranging during the creation of the Legion Spore—but I wasn’t so sure that she could fix a damaged tooth.
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’ll have to ask.”
We stared at each other. The candlelight flickered, the little candle bobbing in the water like a fire beast standing before me, flames licking at its hands. I grimaced. It would be nice if the images of fire beasts would go away, and if the shadows dancing on the wall didn’t remind me of people trapped inside beastie tanks, pounding their fists on the glass and begging for help.
“Why did you choose this place?” I pushed away the memories. “It seems... formal.” Deep, rich colors on the walls and floors. Paintings with chaotic brush stokes. A set of trees in confining pots beside the register. I quickly retracted my plant power. The trees were root bound, confined like the human components in the Legion Spore’s hub—
“I thought the candlelight might help us focus on each other.” Lance brushed back his long bangs. “That was the theory in the Community behind dinner for two, wasn’t it? With candlelight, you don’t notice everyone else around you.”
“What should we focus on?” For all his good intentions, I was going to have a hard time focusing on anything but that candle flame. But even if I tried to focus, we had been best friends for so long, what could we possibly have to talk about on a date?
“Well...” Lance diverted his eyes to the excess of forks beside his plate. “How about each other? Our plans? What comes next?”
“What comes next?” I echoed. The music dimmed and switched songs. In the Community, we would be dating with a purpose, a plan to see if we were suitable partners. We’d see if our work life mixed well with our home life, and if our life goals were compatible. Many couples, once approved, started families. My chest constricted at the thought. Someone else to have to worry about? Lance and my parents were hard enough to protect. As for our life goals...
“I don’t think I can see that far ahead,” I said, my voice hoarse.
Even in the shadowy firelight, Lance’s cheeks turned a faint shade of pink. “I didn’t mean that far ahead. I meant... I meant once all this is over—”
Our waiter placed two plates in front of us. Limp, overcooked green beans—which I was thankful for, since any vegetable with even the slightest vestige of life was a literal pain to eat—and seared steak with brown juice pooling on the plate. “Please enjoy.” The waiter bowed before leaving us alone. I hesitantly cut the steak into little strips. Medium rare, pink on the inside. Like the Legion Spore.
I looked up at Lance. “You were saying?”
Lance watched me from over his plate. “What do we do once we stop the Camaraderie? Do we settle down someplace and find you a biology job? I could probably work security. You know, protecting everyone’s newfound freedoms from petty criminals.” He offered a lopsided grin, but my heart sank.
“You really think it’s that simple?” I speared a piece of steak with my fork. “You really think that if we stop the Camaraderie, we’ll suddenly have a different society on our hands?”
“I’m sure there would be some issues,” he admitted. “But the OA seems to have something working for them—”
“The OA would try to fill the power vacuum.” I took a bite of the steak. Juicy, a peppery flavor. Hints of lemon... not bad. Actually, this was delicious.
“We wouldn’t hand over the Community to the OA. We could give the Community citizens a choice. They would have another chance at democracy.”
I snorted. “What makes you think the OA would offer that choice? Besides, the Community is safe, secure, and efficient. From what Jim’s told me, the democratic societies that came before were none of those things. Why would Community citizens trade something that’s working for something subpar?” I took another bite of steak. As long as I didn’t look at it or focus on how the pink juices were from something a bit too raw, I wouldn’t think about the Camaraderie’s living airship.
“Subpar?” Lance’s eyes widened. “How is it subpar? Yes, there were problems, but think of all the freedoms—”
“I enjoy playing video games. I really do. But until I came to the rebel airship, I never knew what I was missing.”
“Jen... I never felt complete in the Community. I was hoping Special Forces would give me purpose. But I found purpose here, with the rebels.”
I narrowed my eyes and stabbed my fork into the next piece of steak. “You found purpose in killing beasties and the very people you’d been hoping to join. Obviously, you wouldn’t have felt complete in Special Forces. Do you even feel complete here? Really complete?”
“They were trying to kill us! We’ve been over this before. Killing them isn’t what gives me purpose. It’s about liberty and justice, and saving you. Besides, even you know what it feels like to get caught up in the heat of battle. I saw you yesterday—”
Heat burned behind my ears. “I never felt complete during the fight. I felt wrong.” I gripped the fork tight, too tight, as if it was a knife rather than an eating utensil. The flower charm pressed against my collarbone, an unwelcome reminder. “I never want to feel that way again, Lance. That wasn’t me.” I spoke through my teeth, my jaw clamped tight. If I didn’t, I’d probably scream at him. I thought he was starting to understand me. How could he accuse me of knowing what it felt like to enjoy fighting?
“It’s what you’re becoming,” he whispered. “Neither of us enjoy killing people. We just do what we have to.”
I sat the fork beside my plate. I closed and opened my hands, and then took a deep breath. “Lance—”
“I don’t want you to become like me,” he gushed. “Trust me, I don’t. I don’t want you to become some heartless warrior. But I saw you yesterday. I saw what happened. It’s not just me, Jen. I don’t enjoy taking their lives. I don’t. But I will protect you. Whatever else, I’ll protect you.”
I swallowed hard. The rest of the room was a blur that centered on Lance’s face. I closed my fingers around the flower charm and waded through his emotions. It was true. He wanted to protect me. But if he wanted to protect me, fighting beasts and Special Forces wasn’t the answer.
“I want the Community to exist,” I said flatly. “Do you understand that?”
“Jenna—”
“Do you understand that?” I snapped, my voice louder than I intended.
His shoulders slouched. “The Community needs to change, but it can’t exist without the things that make it wrong. We have to get rid of the Community, whether that’s by destroying the Camaraderie now or destroying the Camaraderie in the past. Once we’ve done that, we can replace it with something better.”
I pursed my lips, my fingers tangled through the necklace chain. He was convinced of his beliefs. Absolutely convinced. That, and he was convinced that he wanted to protect me.
But he didn’t understand me.
“You’re a good friend,” I said quietly. “But, to be honest, I doubt we’ll ever make efficient partners.”
Shock emanated from him in a wave. “What are you saying?”
I raised my chin. “Partners should want the same thing from life. We don’t.” A weight settled on my shoulders and I leaned back in my chair. “What I’m saying is this: I’ll continue giving the partnership a try, if that’s what you want. But I don’t think it’s going to work.”
Lance stared at me, sadness swamping everything he’d felt earlier. He looked down at his plate, no longer interested in his food, or the place he’d picked for us. Guilt flooded through me. He was trying so hard, and I’d ruined it for him. I dropped the flower charm and his feelings vanished into whatever overture the restaurant’s speakers were playing.
I closed my eyes. Why did it have to be so hard to tell him the truth?
“If I compromise,” he said, “you have to be willing to compromise, too. Okay?”
I took a deep breath. I already had been trying to compromise. Searching for the time stones and fighting alongside the rebels, even though I wanted the Community to remain intact. That was compromise, wasn’t it?
Evidently, he didn’t think that was enough.
“I’ll think about it,” I said quietly.
We returned to our dinner, silent. The classical music played too loud. One of the stringed instruments barked its notes like Lady Winters’ condescending laugh, as if she was laughing because it didn’t matter what I tried, I still lost.
“Lance?” I asked softly. He glanced up from his meal, his eyes a deeper shade of green than usual. “I do like the place you picked. Thank you for being so thoughtful.”
A smile twitched on his lips, but neither of us were happy.
